Prophecies of Youth
by Rambutans
Summary: Anakin never has been very good at letting go of things, least of all his family. Obi-Wan/Anakin.
1. Visit Alderaan For Training

**A/N:** I've already uploaded this story onto AO3, but I figured I'd cover all my bases and put it up on here too. The organization of it will be a little bit different since, to my knowledge, doesn't have an equivalent to the "series" feature on AO3, so the installments will just be chaptered, with I, II, III, etc for installments with multiple chapters.

As far as the story itself, its canon divergent starting about five years after The Phantom Menace, and it's an endgame Obi-Wan/Anakin fic with a _really_ slow burn and some brief Anakin/Padme at the beginning.

* * *

"Anakin, I'm warning you. Do not do this," Obi-Wan said, wearily following his Padawan down one of the Temple's curving, marble hallways. Anakin was meters ahead of him, storming and furious and barely containing it. At this rate, every Jedi in the entire temple could probably sense his rage.

"Qui-Gon went against the Council's wishes plenty of times." To his credit, Anakin's voice did not betray his emotions, but then it rarely had to when you could so often see them as plain as day on his face.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, jogging to catch up to Anakin's quick pace as they rounded a corner. "And Qui-Gon was a Knighted Jedi well in tune with the force and wise enough to know when the council's own fears were clouding their judgment. You, my young Padawan, are none of those things." He received a harsh look for this statement and sensed the sting of betrayal percolating off of Anakin like noxious gas from a vented chamber. " _Anakin_ ," he said, forcefully grabbing hold of Anakin's elbow and swinging him around one of the Temple's immense columns, effectively hiding them from the view of anyone lingering about the hallway. "You are projecting. You _must_ calm down."

Anakin's eyes flickered from side to side like a cornered animal until Obi-Wan squeezed his elbow one last time and he closed them, breathing in slowly. Already Anakin was as tall as Obi-Wan himself, and it had barely been five years since he'd begun his training, something which Obi-Wan quietly tried not to resent. Within the next year he would surely outgrow his master by several inches, but at least for now they were eye to eye, if only in the physical realm.

When Anakin had gotten ahold of himself, Obi-Wan said, "Your reaction to the Council's refusal is exactly the _why_ they refused. You must understand this."

For a short moment, Anakin shifted his footing, and Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised to find that he must actually be taking the time to choose his words before spitting them out of his mouth. Eventually he spoke. "I do, Master. Sort of. But the Jedi are supposed to be guardians of peace. To defend and protect, not cower and debate!"

Obi-Wan sighed. It wasn't exactly what he had been hoping to hear, but at least he could work with it. "We are on the cusp of a war, Anakin. If it is to be avoided, we cannot lose focus by diverting our attention to matters which are capable of waiting. Not to mention, you're only one man. The kind of operation you're proposing would require the efforts of multiple Jedi, well trained, with weeks of prior planning and strategy. It's not something a single Jedi can accomplish on their own, much less a Padawan."

Anakin's expression cooled, but Obi-Wan could feel the crest of boiling rage swell within him. "I didn't know the Jedi considered the enslavement of living, sentient beings to be an issue that can wait."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan all but pleaded. "In the face of a potential _galactic war_ , priorities _must_ be set into place, no matter how gruesome they are to our sensibilities."

Slowly, the anger began to melt from Anakin, and Obi-Wan almost thought he had broken through that unbelievably thick skull (possibly for the first time since his training began), but then Anakin said, "I'm sorry, Master. I cannot sit here and wait for the Council to assign us on some inconsequential mission while people on my planet, my friends, my _mother_ , are enslaved and suffering. I _will_ go to Tatooine and free them. Alone, if I have to."

He pulled out of Obi-Wan's grip and stared, like he was just waiting for Obi-Wan to disown him right then and there, to kick him out of the order himself. Obi-Wan remained silent for the duration of the exchange and then watched Anakin turn around and leave, continuing on his way back to their quarters at a much slower pace. With one final sigh, Obi-Wan stepped out from behind the pillar and followed him.

* * *

In the early morning, chilled winds swept between the glistening skyscrapers of Coruscant's upper city and gently rocked the spaceport's landing platforms even despite their stabilizer engines. This was a phenomenon that Obi-Wan frankly hated. Nothing in the galaxy was worse than walking out onto a platform suspended thousands of meters in the air as it swayed back and forth like some lost piece of driftwood in an empty ocean. Honestly, he'd almost rather be in the cockpit of a star cruiser with Anakin at the helm than on one of Coruscant's landing platforms at oh-six-hundred in the morning when the planet was at its windiest.

Unfortunately, current circumstances had no intention of taking into account Obi-Wan's personal comfort, and so here he was, going over flight plans and coordinates with the droid attendant standing next to the hangar door of his transport and waiting, as usual, for his perpetually tardy Padawan to show up.

"There is no record of a Jedi Council ordered flight to Alderaan in our registry," The droid said. "Due to heightened security protocols, all flights, locations, and assignments must be recorded. What is your business on Alderaan?"

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, scanning the platform entrance briefly for any sign of Anakin before turning back to the droid. "I am taking my Padawan to Alderaan for training. It's a personal assignment, not issued by the Council."

The droid's CPU hissed quietly, barely audible over the whistle of wind whipping past the platform. "Assignment recorded. You have been cleared for takeoff. Have a nice day, Master Kenobi." After this, the droid waddled past him, off of the platform and back into the spaceport proper, just in time for Anakin's speeder (which looked like a pile of trash to Obi-Wan's eyes, but which he also knew had been modified beyond logical reason by Anakin himself) to make its landing on the other side of the platform.

He leapt out of it recklessly, before the extension bridge had even reached his driver door, and began storming towards Obi-Wan leaving poor Artoo to propel himself out of the speeder alone.

"Whatever this is about, Master, you can't stop me. I'm going to save my Mother and the rest of the slaves."

Obi-Wan greeted him with a smile and said, "You're so pleasantly defensive in the mornings Anakin. It's a shame you don't wake up this early more often." His words were met with a scowl and Obi-Wan gestured to the transport behind him. "I've no intention of stopping you, but I'm also not going to simply let you ship yourself off on a suicide mission. That being the case, I've secured us relatively inconspicuous passage, if you're ready to go."

As realization slowly dawned on Anakin's face his expression changed from irritation to a washed out reflection of the awe Obi-Wan so fondly remembered seeing during Anakin's more innocent youth.

"You're coming with me?"

"I'm certainly not letting you go alone."

Anakin tamped down his joy quickly and quietly said, "Thank you, Master. I do appreciate it."

If Anakin were half as good at concealing his anger as he was his delight, Obi-Wan suspected he might be able to fool even Master Yoda. He kept this thought to himself, however and followed Anakin into the ship, Artoo trailing behind.

Anakin made his way immediately to the cockpit and Obi-Wan closed the bay door in case Anakin decided to take off without warning while it was still open, which would not have been an unprecedented decision on his part. It wasn't until several minutes later, when Obi-Wan returned to the main cabin area, that Anakin asked, "Why is the nav computer set to Alderaan, Master?"

"Because, my young Padawan," Obi-Wan rested a hand on the back of Anakin's chair. "With all this tension rising in the senate, security has been increased. I had to give an official destination for the spaceports registry. I'm sure Artoo won't have trouble wiping the nav computers records after our detour to Tatooine."

Somewhere in the cabin of the transport Artoo beeped in acquiescence and Obi-Wan received a skeptical look from Anakin who reached across the ship's controls to the nav computer and said, "Great. I'll re-set the coordinates myself."

"I'm not trying to trick you, Anakin." Obi-Wan said before turning away, arms crossed. "Honestly…" There were more important things to attend to than his Padawan's distrust, like making sure the port kept this ship stalked with rations before Anakin hastily flew them into space without any food.

* * *

From the moment they docked in the Mos Espa space port on Tatooine, Anakin was jittery. It was something that Obi-Wan hated because Anakin's jitters made _Obi-Wan_ jittery. Before Qui-Gon had died, Obi-Wan never really had to contend with negative emotional feedback from individuals strong in the force. Training Anakin however, had made contend with it as Anakin contained an endless renewable resource of nerves. He was _constantly_ on edge about some thing or another, and though it took several years of practice, Obi-Wan had learned to tune it out, but on such occasions when it became especially noticeable, Obi-Wan had to will himself not to be drawn in by Anakin's emotional pull.

On this occasion, it _was_ especially noticeable, and it remained so until they reached the neighborhood in which Anakin claimed to have grown up, at which point it became nearly unbearable.

"Something's wrong," Anakin said and broke into a sprint toward the adobe complex of apartments. "She's not here. Something's wrong."

"Perhaps she's simply out, Anakin." Obi-Wan followed him to one of the apartment doors and it struck him, perhaps for the first time, that he had never come to Mos Espa when they landed on Tatooine oh-so long ago. He'd never seen Anakin's childhood home, never met his mother. He wasn't sure _why_ it struck him so, but he couldn't shake the odd notion that he _should_ have been here somehow.

"No," Anakin said, pulling the lock panel off the side of the wall and yanking out a pair of wires. The door slid open immediately, revealing a small, modest living space, dim and completely void of furnishings. "No, no, no," Anakin stormed in and Obi-Wan followed slowly, arms crossed in his sleeves, taking in the house's cramped layout.

It was several minutes before Anakin re-appeared, looking years older and like he might be sick. "She's not here, Master. _Nothing's_ here. Something's happened to her. I knew it," he flung himself back against the wall and with a quiet cry of frustration said, "I knew something was wrong!" Across the room, one of the containment field panels on the wall popped loudly and began to smoke. The field in the window flickered off and a small plume of dust ghosted into the room.

"Anakin, calm down," Obi-Wan said, as kindly as he could. "Clear your mind. I sense no lingering ill will here. Whatever was the cause of your mother's leaving this place, I do not believe it brought her harm."

After staring at the ceiling for some time, Anakin closed his eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan moved to put a hand on Anakin's shoulder. He was growing so fast that his wrist bones could already be seen peeking out the bottom of his sleeves. He'd soon need new robes, and Obi-Wan dreaded the thought of what horrible custom adaptation Anakin would ask for this time. _Last_ time his padawan had put in a request that they be made purple. Some ill-conceived joke to poke fun at Master Windu's uniquely colored lightsaber, no doubt. Thankfully that request had been denied, much to Obi-Wan's relief and Anakin's chagrin.

"It's alright Anakin. You must learn not to let your attachments influence your actions. There must be some other way of contacting your mother. Do you have family in the city?"

Anakin narrowed his eyes and said, "Not family. But there is someone we could ask." He pushed away from the wall and Obi-Wan's hand fell from his shoulder as Anakin brushed past him. "He's got a shop close by."

* * *

This non-familial "him" that Anakin referred to turned out to be a Toydarian by the name of Watto, apparently Anakin's former owner, and the same one who lost all of his bettings on the pod race that won Anakin his freedom.

Watto's poverty was apparent in the shop he ran; little more than a kiosk with various junk goods and a few barely functioning droids. His interaction with Anakin was nothing short of amusing, if not also somewhat pathetic. The juxtaposition between their individual statuses could have easily gone to Anakin's head, and Obi-Wan was impressed that it didn't. In an odd sort of way, this reunion seemed to bring out a side of Anakin that had been lost during his transition into adolescence. A kinder, softer side, not as clouded by the promise of power and his own inflated ideas regarding the magnitude of his abilities. It presented itself in the way Anakin tinkered with one of Watto's broken down droids while the Toydarian rifled through his files, and in his tone which was a great deal softer than usual. Obi-Wan tried not to think about the fact that Anakin's change in demeanor could just as easily be attributed to the bone deep scars of slavery left over in the form of old habits while in the presence of his former owner.

Eventually, Watto found the address of Shmi Skywalker's new owner, a moisture farmer named Cliegg Lars who lived exactly in the middle of nowhere, which was impressive considering everywhere on Tatooine was the middle of nowhere. They left shortly after, despite Watto's pleas that they help him settle some huge debt he was owed.

When they were safely back on the ship and Anakin had finished entering the coordinates for the Lars' farm, Obi-Wan asked, "How exactly do you plan on freeing your mother from this moisture famer?"

Anakin looked at him over the back of his pilot's chair, the enormous hangar walls seeming to lower themselves outside of the ship's front window as they rose above Mos Espa's spaceport. "I'll speak with him. Very persuasively."

Obi-Wan hummed. "I suppose that means you're planning to do something rash. I'll make sure to grab a medical kit."

* * *

The Lars' moister farm was in fact, in the middle of nowhere. They flew for hours over empty desert and Tuscan encampments before they reached the farm, a good half day's ride from any civilized settlement, and when they did finally land, Anakin was practically vibrating. Force energy buzzed around him like a nest of hornets and while Obi-Wan tried not to feed off of it or let it put him on edge, the knowledge that if Anakin _did_ do something overtly rash, it would be Obi-Wan who'd have to stop him or deal with the consequences weighed heavily on him.

Some days he wasn't sure anything he tried to teach Anakin actually got through that enormously thick skull. From the moment they'd met, Obi-Wan sensed Anakin's natural instinct to rebel against authority. He understood where that instinct came from, that Anakin's intrinsic need to make his own choices and interpret any kind suggestion as an order was a direct result of his enslavement as a child, and Obi-Wan _did_ try to work with that (often times in the form of letting his Padawan learn from his own stupid mistakes), but there had to be a line somewhere between what experiences Obi-Wan would allow Anakin to learn from, and what experiences Obi-Wan knew could potentially harm or kill him. Most times this line was fairly clear, but other times it wasn't, and right now Obi-Wan could only hope that he wasn't, himself, making a stupid mistake in allowing Anakin to follow through with this.

Qui-Gon, he thought, would tell him to trust in the force, and so Obi-Wan did as he followed a fuming Anakin off of the ship and onto the clumped sand flat of the Lars' family moisture farm.

Apparently, a Republic transport ship landing outside of your farm wasn't a typical occurrence on Tatooine because by the time Obi-Wan and Anakin reached the farm house's small, hut entrance, they had already acquired something of a landing party including a protocol droid, an older man squinting at them beneath the shade of his palm, and, presumably, this same man's son.

"My name is Anakin Skywalker. I'm here to free my mother, Shmi Skywalker." Anakin spoke before Obi-Wan even had a chance to open his mouth. "I'm going to advise that you don't try to stop me."

To the surprise of everyone – although no one more than Anakin – the older man laughed. Loudly. "I'm afraid you're too late, son. I already freed her." He extended his hand to Anakin who eyed it like it might turn into a Sith saber at any moment. "Cliegg Lars. Your mother's my wife."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat to keep from smiling and Anakin reached for Cliegg's hand looking shell shocked.

"This is my son, Owen," He said, clapping the younger man's shoulder, before motioning for them to follow him. "Come inside, I'm sure you've got questions."

"I had a feeling you'd show up eventually," Owen said. He had a soft smile and looked to be nearly the same age as Anakin. "Your mother talks about you often."

"Where is she?" Anakin asked, as they descended a set of stairs leading to the cooler, underground living quarters.

"Out picking mushrooms off the vaporators. Should be back any time now." Lars guided them across an open court yard in the center of the house and into a smaller hearth room where he motioned for them to take a seat on one of the off white, slightly dusty couches. "Who's your friend?"

"This is my – um, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Anakin said as he sat.

Obi-Wan looked pointedly at him and raised an eyebrow, receiving an expression of pure irritation from Anakin in return.

"Nice to meet you," Cliegg said.

Obi-Wan smiled. "You as well."

"How long have you been married to my mother?" Anakin asked, already falling back into his hostile tone, now that the shock had worn off. It slightly concerned Obi-Wan that Anakin's judgment was so clouded by his distrust that he couldn't sense the kind intentions of their hosts. That particular lecture could wait for later time, however.

"Oh, well let's see," Cliegg ran a hand through the short hair of his beard. "It'll be nearly two years next season."

"And did you free her before or after you decided to marry her?"

Cliegg laughed, "I knew from the moment I met your mother that I'd free her, and I did. Bought her off of that scum Watto in Mos Espa and freed her the same day – offered her a job on the farm to help her get her feet. But it wasn't till I learned what a kind hearted, honest woman she was that I knew I'd marry her too. She's been the most loyal wife a man could ask for, and I love her dearly. Does that put your mind at ease, Son?"

Anakin looked almost embarrassed that Cliegg picked up on his suspicion, but he bowed his head and said, "It does. But I-," he cut himself off and Obi-Wan could sense a shift in the force around him. Seconds later a voice called out from the courtyard for Cliegg and asked what a Republic transport ship was doing outside their homestead.

Cliegg called back, "You've got a couple visitors, Shmi. I think one of them is pretty eager to see you again."

"Oh?" There were footsteps outside the room and then a woman's head poked around the corner of the doorway. "Oh…," she whispered, walking fully into the room. "Ani?"

"Mom!" Anakin nearly fell over himself in his haste to stand up and reach his mother. They embraced before she even made it to the couches. "I missed you so much…"

"Oh, Ani, I always knew you'd come back," Shmi pulled away from her son, holding him at arm's length. He nearly dwarfed her, and she must have noticed because the first thing she said was, "You've grown so big!" She moved her hands to cup his cheeks. "And you're so _handsome_!"

Anakin made a pained noise and Obi-Wan covered his mouth with his sleeve, lest Anakin turn to look at him and find amusement somewhere on his face.

"Owen and I will go start, supper. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on," Cliegg said, standing across from Obi-Wan.

Shmi smiled gratefully at him and Anakin said, "Mom, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my Jedi Master."

If Obi-Wan didn't know better, he would have said he heard pride in Anakin's tone. Of course Anakin wouldn't hesitate to show respect for his master in front of his _mother_ , but Froce forbid he ever show it to Obi-Wan directly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am." Obi-Wan said, standing and shaking Shmi's hand as she moved toward him, one arm still wrapped around her son.

"And you," Shmi said. She held onto Obi-Wan's hand like it was some sacred treasure before letting go. "Qui-Gon spoke of you several times. How is he? He must be busy. It's a shame he could not come with you."

"Mom…" Anakin said and focused his line of sight on some distant point next to him.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you," Obi-Wan said. "But my master Qui-Gon was killed not long after we left Tatooine. I became Anakin's master in his place."

Shmi's expression softened immeasurably and Obi-Wan wasn't sure he'd seen such kindness or open emotion in a person's eyes before. "Oh dear… I'm so sorry. It must have been very hard for you to lose him, I'm sure you were terribly close."

"It… was. Thank you." Obi-Wan said, attempting to quiet his emotions, which he may or may not have been successfully doing given the strange look he was currently receiving from Anakin. Qui-Gon's death was never a subject he enjoyed speaking about or dwelling on.

"At the very least," Shmi said, "I'm so very happy to see you," she looked pointedly at Obi-Wan, " _both_ of you. You will be staying for supper, won't you?"

"I'm afraid-,"

"Of _course_!" Anakin cut him off and Obi-Wan caught his forehead between his thumb and forefinger with a sigh.

"Anakin, would you mind speaking with me in private for a moment?" Obi-wan said.

After a brief exchange of eye contact with his mother wherein Anakin seemed to be begging her to save him from whatever horrible lecture he was sure Obi-Wan had planned (and Obi-Wan _did_ have a horrible lecture planned), Shmi waved him away and said, "Go on. I'll help Cliegg with supper. We'll call you when it's ready." She smiled, kissed him on his cheek and left.

"Whatever you're going to say, Master. I already know I don't want to hear it."

A small smirk found its way onto Obi-Wan's mouth. "I'm sure you don't, but I'm afraid you haven't a choice in the matter, my young Padawan." He waved a finger for Anakin to follow him out of the underground homestead and with great, immeasurable resistance, Anakin did.

The air was cooling in the wake of Tatooine's twin sunset, but the desert still smelled warm and carried a strong wind on its sandy dunes. Obi-Wan turned to face Anakin who had crossed his arms and was staring at his master petulantly. Perhaps if he were older, the expression might have been intimidating, but Anakin still held enough youth in his plump cheeks for the look to be childish, at best.

"I _will_ free the rest of the slaves, Master. My mother may be safe, but my friends are still suffering, along with hundreds of other innocent people on this dung heap of a planet. This is what Jedi are supposed to do. It's our _responsibility_."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and remained silent for a moment. Convincing Anakin of anything through rational logic took a great deal of effort and key wordplay. "I understand that you want to free your friends, Anakin, and you are right. It is a Jedi's responsibility to uphold peace, and peace never involves the slavery of innocents. _However_ , what you fail to understand is that to free the slaves now would mean war with the Hutts. That is a war you cannot win on your own, not even with me. Hundreds of slaves would _die_ in the process of your attempt at freeing them, and in the end, you would fail."

"You don't know that." Anakin scowled.

"You're right, I don't. Perhaps you would succeed and free all of your friends, every slave on Tatooine. But the odds are not in your favor right now, Anakin. You'd be gambling with people's lives, people who you care about. I know that is not something you want to do. Once you have completed your training, when a galactic _war_ is no longer looming on the horizon, _then_ perhaps, you might be successful in freeing your friends. But you must have patience. You must trust that when the time is right, an opportunity will present itself."

Anakin continued to stare at some point just past Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Are you listening to me, Anakin?"

"Yes, Master."

"I'm trying to help you, not hinder you."

"I know, Master."

"You must trust me."

"I _do_ , Master."

"What _are_ you looking at?" Obi-Wan spun around and came face to face with a distant mountain of billowing sand, tearing across the open desert and heading directly for them.

"Storm's coming," Anakin said. "Guess we'll have to stay the night."

Obi-Wan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a slim smirk spreading across Anakin's face. "Yes, you sound absolutely devastated." With one last look at the storm, Obi-Wan groaned in disgust and turned back towards the homestead. "I do hate this blasted planet."

Anakin smiled at him, one of his softer smiles, usually the one reserved for after he'd finally come to his senses about some fool idea he had and was trying to regain Obi-Wan's favor. Begrudgingly, Obi-Wan admitted that it typically worked. "At least we can agree on that, Master."


	2. Protect Senator Amidala I

**A/N:** This is the aforementioned Padme/Anakin chapter. I didn't want it to be super angsty but I also wanted it to feel like it held some amount of weight. I don't know how well I actually did that, but I tried!

* * *

"Young Skywalker will accompany the senator to her home planet, Naboo. She will be safe there until this threat can be dealt with."

Honestly, Anakin had no idea how the council expected to convince Padme to _leave_ Coruscant in the first place, but if they were going to try, Naboo seemed like an ill thought refuge. Historically, the Council frowned on Anakin interjecting his own opinions onto issued orders so naturally he did exactly that.

"Master Windu," Anakin said, stepping forward and ignoring the quiet sigh from Obi-Wan who stood beside him. "With all due respect, I believe Naboo is the last place the senator should be taken." At this, Master Windu raised his eyebrow skeptically – as if Obi-Wan's perpetually raised eyebrow wasn't enough for Anakin to contend with already.

Windu gestured for him to elaborate and Anakin did. "Should the senator's decoy be discovered, Naboo is the first place a bounty hunter would come looking for her. I believe she would be far safer on a planet besides her home world. Somewhere in the Outer Rim, maybe."

Master Yoda hummed. "A wise observation, this is, Padawan Skywalker."

"The Outer Rim is extremely dangerous," Master Windu said, folding his hands. "What makes you think she would be safer there?"

"It's the perfect place to hide her precisely because it's dangerous. It's the last place anyone would expect to find her."

Obi-Wan shot him a strange look and Anakin mostly ignored it, as he did many of the looks Obi-Wan gave him.

Yoda and Windu sent each other a set of what Anakin would classify as telepathic glances and then turned back to him. "Very well," Windu said. "Where would you suggest she be taken, then?"

"Tatooine." The expression on Obi-Wan's face now was most definitely suspicion and Anakin could sense it from him as well, subtly. He expected Obi-Wan would betray his intentions at any moment, but his master remained silent. "There's a moisture farmer on the outskirts there who I've had dealings with in the past. He's a good man, loyal to the republic. He would gladly harbor myself and the senator until this threat can be uncovered."

After a beat of silence, Master Yoda spoke. "Very well. To Tatooine, you will take the Senator. Obi-Wan, uncover the mystery of this threat to the senators life you must, before any more harm can come to her. May the force be with you both."

Obi-Wan bowed and Anakin trailed behind him out of the room, waiting, as though on the precipice of an explosion, for his master to say something. Only silence followed them down the expansive hallway and it was making Anakin itch.

"I know you disapprove of my suggestion, Master." Anakin finally said.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Why didn't you?"

He shot Anakin a raised eyebrow, as though trying to outmatch the eyebrow Anakin had received from Master Windu mere minutes ago. "You made your point well. Your argument contained wisdom, logic, and insight. You were correct. Padme will be safer on Tatooine."

"But…"

"But you have ulterior motives for bringing her there: Your dreams about your mother."

Anakin watched Obi-Wan, walking forward without falter, hands folded in front of him, as calm as the center of a storm. "You could have told the council. You could have stopped me."

"I _should_ have."

"Why didn't you?"

Obi-Wan actually _smiled_ at him when he turned and said, "If I were to alert the Council to your ulterior motives, the Senator would have been sent to Naboo, and I would be placing her life in further, unnecessary risk over nothing more than a petty desire to teach you a lesson. Also, I've always found that pre-emptive teachings are lost on you. Allowing you to make your own idiot mistakes seems to be the only way to get anything through that obtusely thick skull of yours."

An affronted noise came spurting out of Anakin's noise. Obi-Wan carried on without comment.

"None-the-less, be wary of your motivations, my young padawan. Take care that they do not lead you down the wrong path."

Anakin frowned. "I will, Master. And I won't allow any harm to come to Padme. Her safety was as much a factor of my motivations as my mother."

"Of that, Anakin, I have no doubt."

* * *

Padme was already packing when Anakin arrived at her apartment and he was unspeakably grateful that it had been Chancellor Palpatine who delivered the news to her and not him as she was currently pulling things from her grandiose closet and stuffing them into the suitcase on her bed with more passionate rage than he had ever witnessed within the senate chamber.

"I can't believe the Chancellor is forcing me into hiding like this," She fumed without even raising her head to look at Anakin who was leaning against the doorway of her bedroom. "I haven't spent the last year working to defeat the military creation act only to be sent away when its fate is decided!"

Anakin opened his mouth to speak but apparently Padme's hesitation was not an invitation for Anakin to give his opinion on the matter so much as it was a pause for breath, "And besides that, it's not in the Republic's best interest to deal with terrorist acts by turning our backs and running! If we're to stand together as a united government in the face of this threat, then we must not lead the people to believe we are _afraid_ to do so." She leaned both hands on the edges of her suitcase and hung her head. "I fear that I am making a grave mistake…"

This time, Anakin waited before speaking. "Sometimes the right path can be difficult to choose." He took a step into the room. "Putting your life in further danger to prove a point to the people might cause as much harm as good if you were to be killed. It can be aggravating, but we must learn to trust in the wisdom and experience of our elders. I believe Chancellor Palpatine is making the right the choice."

Padme's head rose slowly and she looked at him with a depth of study that made Anakin want to squirm and melt into the floor. "Annie… you've grown up."

Anakin dipped his head and smiled, glancing at the blur of traffic outside Padme's window. "Obi-Wan manages not to see it."

"It can be hard for our mentors to watch us grow, sometimes. Obi-Wan is wise," Padme paused to smile at something, then said, "but to me he's always seemed like someone who was desperately trying to cover up a soft heart. I'm sure it's difficult for him to see that you don't always need him anymore."

"It shouldn't be," Anakin said. "Attachment is forbidden in the Jedi code. I should know, he never stops telling me."

Padme smiled at him and Anakin felt it right in the middle of his chest. "Even our mentors can have flaws, Anakin."

A snort escaped Anakin and he said, "Don't tell that to Obi-Wan."

* * *

Arrangements were made for Anakin and Padme to make their way to Tatooine in a smuggler's ship, complete with a load of moderately illegal cargo scheduled for delivery to the Hutt's palace should they be boarded. It was a risk to be traveling in such a small, unmarked ship as they _were_ more likely to be stopped and searched en-route, but it was much _less_ likely that anyone looking to harm Padme would take any interest in them.

Obi-Wan and Dorme saw them off on the landing platform and Anakin managed not to roll his eyes when Obi-Wan informed him _two_ times not to do anything without his or the Council's permission, but Padme smiled at him during their entire walk to the ship and Anakin thought that if Padme kept smiling at him like that forever, he might even have the strength to never roll his eyes at Obi-Wan again.

Being around her again was intoxicating, especially in such close quarters. It felt like a lifetime since they'd been together, and it felt like no time at all. A part of Anakin resented being sent on this mission, because he wanted Padme in a way that he knew he shouldn't, and he felt that he should be strong enough to resist that temptation, but he wasn't.

 _There is no passion, there is serenity_. The phrase drifted in and out of his head nearly constantly, every time he laid eyes on her. These feelings, though, they weren't as simple as passion or lust. They ran deep, coursing through Anakin's very blood, and they were just one of another in a long list of things that the code denied him, that the Council denied him, that Obi-Wan denied him. In some ways, a lot of ways, it felt to Anakin like he'd never been freed at all but merely traded one form of slavery for another.

"Please stop looking at me like that...," Padme's voice drew Anakin out of his reverie. She stood across from him in the small commons area of the ship, heating up what Anakin was sure to be another meal of tasteless gruel – just about the only thing the order had seen fit to supply them with during their trip.

He set down the holonet transceiver he'd been idly tinkering with before he lost himself in his thoughts and said, "Why?" Honestly he hadn't even realized he'd been staring.

Padme turned fully to face him with a disapproving scowl. "Because it makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry," Anakin said. "It's just…" he picked up the abandoned fusion cutter he'd left lying on the table and finished attaching the transceiver's back. "You've grown so beautiful since I saw you last. It's hard not to stare."

Padme turned back to the stove heater, stirring their gruel. This conversation was not going the way Anakin felt that it should. "It's been a long time since you last visited Tatooine, hasn't it?" Padme asked, apparently taking pity on how enormously he was making himself out to be a childish fool. "You must be anxious to return."

"If by anxious you mean dreading it with every fiber of my being, then yes. I'm very anxious." Anakin set the holonet transceiver back down on the table and turned it on. The Holonet News icon floated just above it, rotating slowly, now without the annoying static that had been plaguing it earlier.

"I don't understand. Tatooine was your home. Don't you miss it at all?" Padme turned to look at him, her eyebrows curved upwards as she pulled their bowls off the stove.

"No. My home was with my mother. That dustball was just the planet we happened to live on."

"So you didn't feel homesick at all after you left to become a Jedi?" She set his bowl down in front of him and sat across the table, watching him like for all the world she'd never seen anything more interesting. Anakin felt it was possibly hypocritical of her to ask him to stop staring at her when she looked at _him_ like that, but to bring it up would mean asking her to stop and he would never ask her to stop.

"I did miss my mother," he said, picking up the spoon in his soup and stirring it idly. "I felt very alone when I first arrived at the temple. Many of the other padawans my age had been training for years and they had all been raised together. They resented that the council would allow me to begin my training when I was so old."

Padme frowned. "Were they ever cruel to you?"

"Not to my face," Anakin said. "Never when they thought I could hear them. They didn't want much to do with me. I had Obi-Wan, at least, but I missed my mother, and I missed Qui-Gon, and I… I missed you."

"It must be hard," Padme said. "Having sworn your life to the Jedi, not being able to be with the people you care about."

"Or the people that I love."

"Are Jedi allowed to love? I thought that was forbidden by the Jedi Code." Padme said and sipped a spoonful of gently steaming soup.

"Passion is forbidden. Attachment is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life. So you might say, we are encouraged to love."

Padme laughed around her spoon, teeth brilliantly white. "Would Obi-Wan agree with that sentiment?"

"No," Anakin laughed. "I think he'd pull me aside for a three hour lecture if he were here right now."

Padme smiled at him and Anakin felt his heart actively struggling to keep its rhythm as she dropped her gaze to the table. "You've changed so much, Anakin."

"You haven't changed at all. You're exactly how I remember you in my dreams."

"You dream about me?" Padme asked.

In contrast to the fluttering of his heart earlier, Anakin was fairly sure his heart had just completely stopped and that blood was no longer flowing through his body, but instead, draining from it. Possibly through his ears.

Then Padme laughed at him, loudly, covering her mouth like that would somehow hide her amusement.

"You're making fun of me," Anakin said.

"No," Padme shook her head. "No, I'd be much too frightened to make fun of a Jedi."

Smiling, Anakin ducked his head and finally took a spoonful of his soup now that he was sure blood was in fact returning to his body (mostly to his face). Immediately afterwards, he dropped his spoon onto the table with a quiet clatter and swallowed his soup as quickly as he could, making some assuredly horrific expression to accompany his noise of distress. "That's _hot_!" He said, in an unmatched display of stupidity and embarrassment.

Padme laughed harder.

* * *

Their delivery to the Hutt's was, thankfully, not scheduled on the Hutt's actual shipment roster, something for which Anakin was very grateful because if there was one thing he wanted to do less than spend an indeterminate amount of time on Tatooine, it was deliver some illegal good to Jabba the Hutt.

This also meant that they could bypass landing in any overly populated area and instead land immediately at the Lars' farm, without detour.

"These people we're staying with," Padme said. "How do you know them? I thought slaves weren't allowed to leave the city."

"They're not," Anakin said, shutting down the ships engines and lowering the bay door. "Cliegg Lars freed and married my mother after I left Tatooine."

"Anakin… That's wonderful! But how did you – I thought you weren't allowed to -,"

Holding a finger up to his lips, Anakin shushed her and grabbed his poncho off the back of the cockpit's chair. "Please don't tell Obi-Wan I told you… If you do, I'll never hear the end of it."

Padme stared at him, eyes wide. "He let you keep in contact with your mother?"

"Not exactly," Anakin said, smiling sheepishly. "We came back to visit her. I was… adamant about returning and freeing her, but it turned out she'd already been freed. I got to see my mother again, Obi-Wan got to pretend he had taught me some invaluable lesson about patience and the will of the force. Everybody won."

Padme laughed. "Your secret's safe with me."

Once they were outside, that familiar sense of sick nostalgia wrapped itself around him like an old blanket. The dry heat of the desert air, the gentle, warm breeze, the barren and desolate landscape stretching on for as far as he could see and then some with only the Lars' family farm house to break up the tedium.

He sighed and glanced at Padme who sent him a compassionate smile before marching on ahead of him toward the farm.

As they approached, Anakin noticed a quiet stillness to the farm which set him on edge. Usually the steady hum of moisture vaporators could always be heard somewhere in the distance. It was always hard to tell, being back on Tatooine, if his sense of unease came from some real, legitimate danger, or if it was simply the residual effect of breathing the air on this forsaken dust ball of a planet. When Owen met them in the doorway, looking ruffled and like he might be slightly ill, it was pretty clear what his sense had been trying to tell him.

"What's going on?" Anakin asked.

Owen nodded toward him and then to Padme, "You'd better come inside," he said, and turned.

Anakin put a gentle hand on Padme's arm to keep her from following Owen and asked, "Are we in danger here?"

Halfway down the stairs, Owen looked back at them. "No, you're both safe here. It's just…" he ran a hand through his shortly cropped hair. "Are Jedi practiced in healing arts?"

Anakin squinted. "Some are. Why?"

"Are you?"

"I'm not great at it. What's happened?"

A loud, rather agonized cry echoed up the stairs from the main courtyard of the homestead and Owen took off in its direction without providing any further explanation. Anakin had no choice but to follow and Padme stuck close behind as they rounded the bottom corner of the stairs and crossed the courtyard.

"Dad?" Owen called, turning down the hallway which lead to the bedrooms. Anakin threw Padme another glance before trailing after him into a darkened room in which someone was grumbling loudly. For a few seconds Owen fumbled with something on the wall and then a set of fade on lights slowly illuminated the room on either side, revealing Cliegg, sprawled on the floor beside the bed and noticeably missing his leg.

"Dad!" Owen rushed toward him and motioned to Anakin who was already on his way across the room to help.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," Cliegg said.

Once they had laid Cliegg back down on the bed Anakin stood and leveled both Cliegg and Owen with a severe look. "What happened?" he asked again. "And where's my mother?"

Cliegg looked at him with a sort of sympathy that Anakin quite frankly never wanted to see in someone else's eyes. "Your mother was taken by Raiders, son."

"What?" Padme exclaimed. "Why?"

Anakin felt his fingertips turn cold. "When?"

"'Bout a week ago." Cliegg said, then looked at Padme. "Those Tuskens, they walk like men, but they're vicious monsters. What goes on in their minds… well, it ain't like what goes on in the mind of a sentient being. Whatever their reasons are wouldn't make much sense to you and me. Thirty of us went out looking for her, four of us came back. Three are still out there, searching. I'd be with 'em only…," He gestured to his legs.

"What happened?" Padme asked.

"One of 'em managed to drag me off my speeder. Cut me up real good with its gaffi stick. The others weren't so lucky."

"What kind of a creature could just… do something like that? Harm another being for no reason at all? It's horrible…"

"Where did you last see them?" Anakin asked.

"Last I heard, Dago caught sight of 'em over by the Jundland Wastes, but that was a couple days ago at least."

Anakin nodded, though he hadn't really meant to. He felt numb, as though his thoughts had been taken from his mind, but somewhere he was still thinking them. When he turned from the room and stalked back into the courtyard, Padme followed him.

"Where are you going, Annie?"

"To find my mother."

* * *

It wasn't even difficult. Anakin could never forget the way his mother felt in the force: warm, familiar, melancholy like an old happy memory, gone by too fast. All he had to do was let his shields down, feel the ebb and flow of the planet's force. She was easy to find. Most importantly, she was alive.

The camp was a long ways from the Lars' farm, which worried Anakin. There was a lot the Tuskens could have done to his mother during the trip from her home to this primitive hell. It made him wonder why they took her in the first place. Why they did anything, really. He knew some things about Tusken culture, their life bond to Bantha, a vague sense of their coming of age rituals. They were known for being unpredictable and violent, but little else. The old locals in Mos Espa always used to say befriending a Tusken was like trying to make a pet out of a womp rat. They might be loyal for a time, but they could turn on you at any moment. Needless to say, Anakin had never befriended many Tuskens.

As much as it pained him to let his mother suffer for any longer than she had to, Anakin knew attacking during the day was foolish. They'd see him coming from miles away and all he wanted was to rescue his mother and get out, so he laid low, stalking the canyon outcroppings until dusk when the encampment had started settle down, pitching fires and retiring to their huts.

His mother was being kept on the edge of camp, which baffled Anakin, but nonetheless, he easily slipped past the sleeping Massiffs outside the hut nearby and snuck inside. When he saw her he nearly became sick.

"Mom…" Anakin rushed to untie the leather straps around his mother's wrists, holding her to a wooden stand. As she fell into his arms a noise escaped her and Anakin saw, now in the dim light, that she bore scars all across her face, and possibly more elsewhere.

"Mom?" He said again, sweeping sweat soaked hair away from her eyes. He knew she was alive, could feel her heart beating as strongly as if it were in his own chest, but she wouldn't wake and he felt cold and hot all at the same time.

When a Tusken barked at the opening of the hut Anakin turned and it wasn't until that moment, as this feral animal, barely evolved enough for sentience, was charging toward him howling, that Anakin felt hate, truly, fully, and more passionately than he had ever felt anything else, and for perhaps the first time.

To spare his mother the gruesome sight should she wake, Anakin threw up his hand and the Tusken flew backwards, out of the entrance. He pursued it outside where a small group of Tusken warriors had gathered, wielding gaffi sticks and cycler rifles and clearly intent on murdering him. Murdering him or torturing him as they had his mother in their animalistic rage. He shuddered to think at what they had already done to her and felt the choking sensation of that hate fill his chest like molten metal into a mold. Everything these creatures touched was tainted by their heedless violence, and they could do this again and again and again if he didn't stop them. It was the only thought in his mind as he cut them down. His mother's face, bloody and bruised to the bone, seared into his brain because of these monstrous things. He wanted to wipe their entire species off the face of the planet. And he _could_.

* * *

By the time Anakin arrived at the homestead, one of Tatooine's suns had already risen, peeking above the horizon like a pool leaking pink and orange rivers into the sky. Wrapped in thermal blankets from head to toe, his mother looked so much smaller than he remembered her. She stirred when he lifted her from the cot attached to the side of his speeder.

"I've got you, Mom." Anakin pressed a kiss to her forehead and turned toward the homestead. "I've got you."

Owen was waiting for him at the entrance with a look of surprise. "You found her?"

"I told you I would," Anakin glared at him, descending the stairs. "You need to contact a healer. She's hurt badly."

"Right," Owen said, departing at the bottom of the stairs and heading for the comm room.

Anakin brought his mother to her room, where Cliegg was chatting idly to Padme who sat in a chair beside the bed.

"Anakin!" she said standing up and moving with him as he set his mother down beside Cliegg.

"Is she alright?" he asked, scooting toward her and gently turning her face toward him.

"She's alive," Anakin said. "I don't know how severe her injuries are." He felt Padme's fingers slip between his and he looked down at her, but her attention was focused on his mother who had seemed to rouse herself partially from sleep. At least enough to say her husband's name when he called to her.

"Your legs," Shmi said, voice cut up and dry.

"Never mind my legs. Your boy's here, Shmi. He's saved you." Cliegg said, brushing the hair on top of her head.

"Annie?" Shmi's head lolled to the side, gazing up at Anakin like she could barely make him out.

Kneeling beside the bed, he took her hand in his and said, "I'm here, Mom."

"Oh, Annie," she pulled out of his grasp to stroke his face. "I knew you'd come."

"You're going to be okay, Mom." Padme's hand came to rest at his neck, scratching lightly at the short hairs there. "I promise."

* * *

"Is something wrong with my stew?" Padme asked from the doorway of the Lars' narrow kitchen.

Anakin looked from her to the stew over which his hand was currently hovering and said, "Uh, no… just," he glanced at the assortment of spices he had pulled out and at the dried strips of bantha meat sitting on the counter, "Thought I'd… help you with it."

Padme laughed. "Is that the Jedi way of telling me my stew is terrible?"

Smiling, Anakin said, "That's my way of telling you your stew is terrible."

"My mother always used to tell me I had too much passion for politics and not enough for the arts." Padme settled herself next to Anakin, leaning her hip against the counter, and he took it as his cue to continue cooking. "I never really had the patience to learn from her."

"I can relate," Said Anakin, thinking of the small Tusken girl he had beheaded and the way her body went limp in front of him; the sound of her skull cracking against the hut behind her as it fell. He also thought of the many, many times Obi-Wan had told him to beware of his emotions, and the times Master Yoda had warned him that his anger would consume him if he weren't careful.

"Really? It seems to me you know what you're doing here pretty well." She watched him carefully drop strips of bantha meat into the cooker.

"I didn't mean about cooking," Anakin said. "I just meant…"

"I know," Padme said. "You meant about Obi-Wan. Anakin," Suddenly Padme's hand was on his shoulder, turning him gently to face her and Anakin had no idea how she'd gotten so close without his noticing. "Is something wrong? You seem… worried."

Anakin opened his mouth, thought to tell her about what he had done and dared to hope that perhaps she could say something to remove the boulder in his gut that seemed to be trying constantly to pull him down, beneath the sandy dunes where he would simply drown and never have to relive it again. Then he shut his mouth as her words ran through his head like a bright red marquis holosign on Coruscant. _What kind of a creature could just… do something like that? Harm another being for no reason at all? It's horrible…_

The words had been meant for the Tuskens, but they could just as easily be applied to him. "It's nothing," he said, swallowing the now familiar taste of bile in the back of his throat. "I fear for my mother, that's all."

"Oh, Anakin…" Padme moved her hand from his shoulder to his arm but kept her gaze level, staring up at him with a fire that Anakin had never seen in the eyes of any other living creature. "The doctor said she would make a full recovery. She'll be okay."

"I know," Anakin said, and if he leaned forward it was only so that he might reach the spices on the counter behind her. "I still worry."

"She's your mother," Padme said, though she was no longer staring into his eyes, and when she kissed him he felt as though he were taking his first breath. It was sweet and much too short, but for those few precious seconds Anakin felt the boulder inside of him shrink to the size of a pebble. When she pulled away Padme said, "I shouldn't have done that…" and turned from him.

"Padme, wait!" It wasn't difficult to catch her and pull her back, Padme didn't seem interested in putting up a fight in the least. She simply stood, looking out at the darkened courtyard beyond the kitchen, and wrapped her fingers gently around his. "Don't go…"

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Padme said, and he was sure than in all his twenty years of life no words had ever shaken him so deeply before. "It wasn't fair of me to have done that."

"I don't mind," Anakin said and to his slight embarrassment, Padme laughed at him.

"I think that's the point," She said, turning and smiling sadly.

Anakin squeezed her hand. "Would you just… stay with me?"

She looked back at him, curls bouncing gently against her exposed shoulders. "Of course, Annie."

* * *

Dinner took place in Cliegg and Shmi's room, since both of them were still confined to their bed for the moment. Every day his mother grew stronger, but it still hurt Anakin to see her this way. As a child he'd never thought that anything could bring her down. She always somehow managed to leap every hurdle that came their way, nothing surprised her and she had an answer for any and every question he could think to ask. To see her like this, vulnerable and weak, was a direct contradiction to everything he had known about her as a child. It conjured a sick kind of fear in the pit of his stomach.

Even so, the Lars family was in high spirits. Owen had invited his girlfriend Beru over for dinner and laughter echoed across the room. Shmi followed it up saying, "Have I ever told you that Annie used to let all the womp rats Watto caught in his shop go, just outside of town?"

Owen laughed, "What on earth for?"

Anakin groaned at the same time his mother sent him one of her typical adoring expressions. "He was just too kind hearted to let Watto kill them."

" _Mom_ ," Anakin said, ignoring the guttural scream of a Tusken, writhing in pain that pierced his ear.

"Well it's true," she said, stirring her soup. "You've always been such a good boy."

Padme giggled next to him, "That's sweet."

And so dinner proceeded in such a fashion. His mother would tell some old, embarrassing story, Anakin would be caught between wanting to defend himself and trying to pretend he couldn't smell the burning flesh of a Tusken that had just been cut in two by his own lightsaber. Everyone laughed and Anakin surreptitiously did not eat any of the bantha meat in his soup. It only progressed as the night went on and Anakin fully expected to be overwhelmed by the onslaught of memories before the night was over, as he had on my many recent nights after rescuing his mother.

Fear and nightmares were no strange bedfellow to Anakin but this guilt, spinning inside of him, trying to make him cave in on himself like some over dense star was more than he could handle and when it finally became too much he left in search of something to relieve it.

He found Padme in the guest room sitting on her bed and running a comb through her hair. She wore a sleeveless satin night dress that rippled and gleamed like moonlight and she smiled at him when she saw him in such a way that almost made Anakin forget why he had even been upset in the first place.

"You are so beautiful," he said, coming into the room.

She laughed. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Why not?" When he reached the foot of her bed, he caught her hand and gently pulled the comb from her fingers.

"You're a Jedi, Anakin."

"Technically, I'm only a padawan learner." he took a seat on the end of her bed and began to run the comb through her hair. It slipped so easily between her delicate curls, Anakin wondered why she had to even bother with it, though he enjoyed the feeling of her silken locks coiling around his fingers.

"You still have to abide by the Jedi Code."

He sighed through his nose, let his fingers drift from her hair to the skin of her shoulders. "I can't stop thinking about you, Padme."

"Anakin…" she turned to him, twisting until they faced each other. "We shouldn't…"

"Why not?" he lifted his fingers to her cheek, soft and smooth, exactly as he would have imagined it.

She laughed, although it didn't necessarily sound happy. "You keep saying that."

"You keep not answering me." He was so close to her now, could feel her breath on his face and saw nothing but the crystal amber in her eyes. If asked, Anakin would have sworn on the Code itself that his intention when entering Padme's room had not been to seduce her, but when she leaned forward and kissed him, he couldn't deny that he may have had ulterior desires at the very least.

"This is a bad idea," She said, and kissed him again.

"From my point of view, this is a great idea." He cupped her jaw and returned the kiss, long and suffering greatly from his passion.

When he pulled back Padme said, breathless, "you're really good at that."

She stared half lidded at his mouth and Anakin moved forward once more. "You're beautiful."

Padme laughed against his lips and if this wasn't what being in love felt like then Anakin hoped he never fell in love because Padme's smile against his mouth was already overwhelming him, reducing every nerve gnawing away at him from guilt to nothing more than a phantom ache, barely even there.

"I love you," he said and felt immediately stupid, especially because Padme reared back and stared at him with calculating albeit smoldering eyes.

"You love me?" she asked.

"Truly," he said, "Deeply. From the moment I first saw you."

She surged toward him, meeting him with more force than he had honestly been expecting, but he wasn't about to put up a fight, so he let her grip his shoulders and spin him around until she could push him back against the bed with a soft bounce.

"That's either the stupidest or most romantic thing I've ever heard," Padme said, leaning over him. He grinned when she kissed him, pulling at the smooth fabric around her waist.

* * *

Anakin woke slowly to the sound of wind hissing past the homestead, and the gentle gradient of light spilling through the ceiling window. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to sleep in, least of all in such luxury. Not that the Lars' family farm's scratchy bed sheet exactly equated to luxury, but the feeling of Padme's warm skin next to his was more than he needed to feel shamefully, contentedly, spoiled. It wasn't until right about the time he had that thought that he realized she was already awake. Tightening his arms around her waist, he mumbled her name questioningly against her bare shoulder and she turned over, smiling at him in a way that made his heart ache.

"Anakin," she said, shifting down on the bed to kiss him.

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to say something I don't want to hear?" he asked, loosening his hold around her. "How long have you been awake?"

She put a hand on his cheek. "Long enough."

Anakin stared at her and said nothing.

"You know that this can't happen again, Anakin."

"Why not?" he asked, challenging her with what would probably have scored first place as his most childish pout yet, if anyone were keeping track.

She laughed sadly. "You are sweet," she pet the side of his face. "And handsome, and-," Padme laughed again as Anakin twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, "Admittedly a very talented bed partner-,"

"So what's the problem, then?" Anakin asked, and leaned forward to kiss her.

Gently she pushed him back down against the sheets, leaning over him on one elbow. "The problem, Anakin," she said pulling his braid out from underneath him and laying it over his shoulder, "is that you are a Jedi, and I am a senator."

"So?"

She laughed but it was verging on exasperated. "So, we can never truly be together."

"Why not?" Anakin lifted his chin, daring her to give him a real answer this time, but it appeared she had anticipated this question.

"Because we would be living a lie. What would you have us do, Anakin? Marry in secret and keep it from everyone we loved? You could never tell Obi-Wan, I could never tell my family. It would be a nightmare."

Anakin looked away from her, focusing his gaze on the pale adobe wall across the room.

"Anakin," Padme pleaded. "We would grow to hate each other. I don't want that, do you?"

"I could never hate you," Anakin said, turning his head back to her.

She laughed, "Well then I would grow to hate you, and you would be a fool, blinded by love."

"Don't be mean," Anakin said.

"I will not stop caring for you, Anakin. My love for you will not be lessened simply because we can't be together, physically. Will yours?"

"No!" Anakin said. "Of course not!"

"Then it's settled?" She placed her hand on his chest, stroking it tenderly. He knew the touch was meant to be kind but it felt miserable and out of the corner of his eye he could see the movement of a small Tusken child, trying to crawl away from him. "We agree that this can't happen again, that we won't be with each other?"

Anakin closed his eyes, breathed in the stale, dry air of Tatooine and reached out to feel the gentle, familiar flow of the force gliding in great, rolling tides across the planet. It calmed him, but the ache in his chest felt no more dulled. "Yes," he said. "Yes, we agree."

"I'm sorry, Anakin."

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "Me too," he said.

As usual, Artoo had impeccable timing, and chose that exact moment to wheel into the room, screaming. Anakin nearly fell off the bed and Padme looked like she might be having a heart attack when Artoo rolled straight into the opposite wall.

"Whoa, whoa, hey buddy, what's going on?" Anakin said, flinging the bed covers off of himself only to realize that he was still completely naked. Belatedly he reached for his robe, discarded on the dusty floor, and shook it once harshly before covering himself with it.

Artoo beeped urgently, something about Obi-Wan that even Anakin couldn't quite follow, then projected a recorded holomessage of Obi-Wan asking to be put through to the council mere moments before being attacked by a geonosian as the transmission cut out.

Padme, who had sat up in bed with the blankets clutched against her chest looked at him desperately. "We have to help him."

"It's too dangerous. Artoo's alerted the council, they'll send Jedi to rescue Obi-Wan."

"It'll take them a day to reach Geonosis. We could get there in half the time." Padme said, frowning.

Anakin looked at Artoo who beeped sadly. "I know, I know… it's not like I _like_ sitting here when I know he's in trouble but there's nothing we can do, Padme. I have very strict orders."

"Your orders are to protect me," Padme said, throwing the covers off of her and walking across the room, brazenly naked. Anakin averted his eyes, mostly because he felt like he shouldn't take advantage anymore, after they'd both agreed, but he also felt foolish for refusing to look at her when they'd just made love hours prior. "And I'm going to save Obi-Wan." She pulled a pair of white pants from her suitcase and stepped into them. "If you want to protect me you'll just have to come with."

Against his better judgment Anakin did look at her now, and smiled. "Let me say goodbye to my mom, first," he said and headed for the door. Then he stopped and turned around and said, "Let me put clothes on first."

Padme laughed loudly.


	3. Protect Senator Amidala II

**A/N:** I forgot to upload this earlier, I'm sorry! But thank you for the reviews! :D

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The newly appointed clone army was still doing mop up on Geonosis, scouring the endless Geonosian tunnel systems for any scraps of information the separatists might have left behind. So far their searches had turned up nothing but mild to severe injuries inflicted by everything from tunnel cave-ins to unfortunate encounters with Merdeths. As such, the medical frigate orbiting the planet was being kept there for the foreseeable future and while it did possess a regular shuttle schedule which ferried its patients to and from the frigate, Obi-Wan had been given permission to chauffer one patient in particular, personally.

There was a service station and several medical droids positioned just beyond the entrance of the bay and he approached it, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. Docking bays were always so much colder than any other part of a ship – the cost of being separated from the freezing vacuum of space by nothing more than a force field, no doubt.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan said to a feminine droid, leaning slightly against the frame of the desk. "I'm here to sign for the release of Anakin Skywalker."

She spent several long seconds typing something into a holocomputer, then spoke in a metallic voice. "Release confirmed. Patient one-three-four-three is being held in room six-zero-two on deck twelve. Please follow the blue line."

A dimly lit line flickered to life against the white floor of the frigate, winding down the hallway and around a sharp corner. "Thank you, I know the way." Obi-Wan followed it regardless.

When he arrived at Anakin's room, his padawan was already dressed, sitting on the edge of his medical bed looking halfway between depressed and intrigued as he inspected his new arm, a frankly primitive looking prosthetic that was probably exactly what Anakin had wanted.

"How does it feel?" Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin's head snapped up. "I've heard those synthnet neural interfaces can take some getting used to."

Anakin's mouth quirked upward and he shook his head. "Nah, feels fine. I may have… persuaded the medical droids to let me make some special modifications."

"Of course you did." Obi-Wan said. "So," he sat down beside Anakin who seemed to be attempting to physically drown himself in melancholic force energy. It was almost as though he had forgotten how to shield his emotions entirely. On Geonosis, Obi-Wan had caught a sense of similar distress from Anakin, but had more or less chocked it up to their impending deaths. Now he suspected something else might be at play. "If you're so pleased with your new arm why do I get the feeling you've been haunting this room like some sort of ghastly forlorn spirit for the past week and a half?"

His subtle taunt did the trick and Anakin looked appropriately offended. "First of all, I _haven't_ been. And second of all..," he drew back, glanced at his arm and at several other objects around the room, then said. "It's nothing," Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and Anakin sighed at him. "I'll tell you when we get off this ship."

In an act of utter kindness, Obi-Wan decided to let the subject go for now and stood up. There were other things to be discussed anyway. "I'll hold you to that," he said. "Are you ready to go, then?"

Anakin spread his arms and said with a self-deprecating smile that looked foreign on him, "I've got nothing to pack."

* * *

Obi-Wan feared that something was indeed dreadfully wrong with Anakin because he refrained from speaking so much as a single word during their walk back to the docking bay, and when Obi-Wan signed for his four day early release from the frigate, he was downright _cordial_ with the medical droid who had insisted on reading off a long list of exercises, medications, and signs and symptoms to watch for regarding Anakin's injury. In all of their many long years together, Obi-Wan couldn't think of a single time during which Anakin had tolerated the fussing of medical droids or personnel, a trait which Obi-Wan supposed Anakin had learned from him.

Suffice it to say, Obi-Wan was greatly unnerved.

As usual, once they were aboard Obi-Wan's requisitioned transport shuttle, Anakin made his way immediately to the cockpit. "Where to?"

"We'll be heading back to Coruscant for a short time," Obi-Wan called from the cabin, scrolling through Anakin's most recent medical record on a datapad. Apparently, Anakin had been quite amicable during his stay on the frigate. The medical officer who had overseen the installation of Anakin's arm had even gone so far as to write down in his report that Anakin had "asked politely" to modify his bionic limb and had "willingly filled out the necessary paper work".

Obi-Wan hummed and wondered for a brief moment if Anakin had been replaced by some kind of separatist aligned clone, because the padawan he knew had never once in his entire life dealt willingly with any form of paperwork.

The ship gave a small jolt and seconds later Anakin came wandering back into the cabin area. "Nav computer's set and we're in hyperdrive. Shouldn't be more than a few hours till we reach Coruscant."

"Good," Obi-Wan set down the data pad and patted the seat next to him. "Sit, I have some news I think you'd be interested in hearing."

Anakin raised an eyebrow and did as he was told. "Good news or bad news?"

"Good news at a price," Obi-Wan said and ignored the skeptical noise Anakin made in response. "As you know, many Jedi were killed in on Geonosis, some of them members of the Council." Anakin averted his gaze and nodded heavily. "With the emergence of galactic war on our hands, the Senate has put a lot of pressure on the Council to fill those seats, and so, while nothing has yet been made publically official, I've been promoted to the rank of Jedi Master and given a seat on the Council."

Anakin smiled. "That's – that's great, Master. You deserve it."

"There is more, Anakin," Obi-wan said, and Anakin's head jerked up. "In light of your bravery on Geonosis, and your sacrifice," Obi-Wan gestured to Anakin's prosthetic arm. "The Council has seen to fit to place upon you the rank of Jedi Knight. You will be named a general in the Republic army and given your own battalion to command. There are ceremonies to attend, of course, for both of us – but you are, as of this day, no longer my padawan learner."

Anakin blinked. "Master…" He lowered his head. Obi-Wan assumed his silence had more to do with shock than humbleness but, for perhaps the first time, he couldn't be sure. The small cabin compartment of their transport felt muted. For whatever reason, Anakin was actually managing to completely block his feelings from Obi-Wan. Eventually, he said quietly, "I don't deserve this."

"What are you talking about, Anakin?" Obi-Wan said, frowning. "Of course you do! You faced great trials on Geonosis. You saved _my_ life."

"No." Anakin shook his head and leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be overjoyed at the Council's decision."

Softly, Anakin said, "I've done something terrible, Obi-Wan," And he buried both of his hands in his hair. "Please, you have to forgive me…"

Something cold crawled down Obi-Wan's spine and he said, a little bit less kindly than he intended, "What have you done, Anakin?"

"I have broken my vows to the Jedi Order."

" _What-,"_

"Padme and I have lain together, and I love her."

Obi-Wan gazed at the blinking panel behind Anakin's head, running endless diagnostics on the ships engines and life support systems. That _was_ something of an issue, but knowing Anakin, not entirely surprising. "Anakin…"

"It's _worse_ ," Anakin said, voice suddenly loud and wet. "I've ignored your training, I acted upon my anger, I-I've murdered innocents…"

Obi-Wan was silent. He watched Anakin's fingers shake, gripping the short strands of hair on his head. "I think you'd better tell me what happened, Anakin. And when."

"They took my mother."

"Who?" Obi-Wan asked, wishing he didn't already know where this was going.

"The sand people."

"I assume you mounted a rescue."

Anakin lifted his head and met Obi-Wan with a fierce, reddened gaze but only for a moment. Then he pressed his trembling lips together and looked away, thick, wet lashes casting shadow over his normally bright eyes. "I saved her, and then I killed them. All of them."

After a moment of silence, Obi-Wan said. "The Tuskens…"

Anakin's head bobbed up and down and a whispered sob snuck its way out of his mouth. "What have I done?" He sucked in a breath and sat up, staring at the ceiling of the cruiser. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "I slaughtered them…," Anakin said, voice shuddering. "The men, the women… Obi-Wan I murdered _children_." he seemed to wither at saying this out loud. Even in the force, Obi-Wan felt Anakin's presence quivering as though it might shatter if pressed. "What do I do, Master?" For a moment Obi-Wan let himself forget the circumstance of this conversation. He watched Anakin staring at him as though Obi-Wan were his last, final hope in all the galaxy - as though Obi-Wan, of all people, could somehow fix this for him, and he wondered how someone with such pure eyes, like glass spun from a storm cloud, could possibly have done something so terrible. When Obi-Wan didn't say anything, _couldn't_ say anything, Anakin tore his gaze away and said, "How can I still be a Jedi after what I've done?"

"The council's decision is made," Obi-Wan said. "But if you confess these crimes to them… they will revoke it."

"Is that… what I should do?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't know, Anakin."

" _Please_ , Master, you have to tell me! Tell me what to do and I'll do it. Anything that you ask!"

"This is not my choice to make," Obi-Wan stood. "And I am no longer your master, nor can I give you forgiveness for crimes that you have committed against someone else."

Anakin groaned and it subsided into a quiet whimper. He leaned against the wall of the cabin and simply shook pathetically and silently and Obi-Wan felt a hurt deep inside of his chest, which he would have recognized if he weren't such a fool. Instead, he thought of Qui-Gon and of the prophecy. He thought that if he let this stupid, idiot boy throw his life away because of some barbaric mistake, it might be the galaxy that pays for it in the end.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said and received no response. "Anakin, look at me."

Slowly, Anakin turned his head, eyes swollen, lips red and puffed out like a Rodian. Honestly, he was a gruesome sight.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan said, "I _am_ no longer your Master, and as such, I cannot tell you which course of action you should take to make amends for what you've done. The decision must be yours." Anakin looked unimpressed. Or as unimpressed as a desperate, grieving person drowning in guilt could look. "But as your _friend_ , I will say this: If you confess to the Council you will be stripped of your rank and released from the order _at best._ At worst, you could be imprisoned. Either way, you will be helping no one but yourself in some foolish attempt to assuage your own guilt. If you truly do regret what you've done, you'll accept the Council's Knighting, and you will do everything in your power to address whatever darkness inside of you drove you to this madness and dispel it."

"I don't know if I know how," Anakin whispered. "I don't know if I can."

"You'll figure it out," Obi-Wan said. "And I will help you." He extended a hand which Anakin stared at. "Now get up. There will be ceremonies to attend when we arrive and it won't be good for public moral if you show up looking like a drowned womp rat."

Out of something like habit Anakin put his hand in Obi-Wan's but made no motion to stand and so they simply sat there, the both of them looking like fools for several moments until Anakin moved forward in one swift motion and wrapped himself around Obi-Wan like some desperate, touch starved creature. As it had been some years since Anakin impulsively hugged Obi-Wan (the last time being after a particularly trying mission from which Obi-Wan nearly didn't return when Anakin was eleven and about as tall as Obi-Wan's elbow), he found himself rather surprised by how greatly Anakin loomed over him, even while sitting.

"Honestly…," Obi-Wan said but rested a comforting hand on Anakin's broad back, none-the-less, patting it comfortingly.

* * *

Possibly the hardest thing Obi-Wan had ever done as a Master was get Anakin to move out of their shared unit and into his own apartment in the temple. Not for any sentimental reason, (although now that Anakin was gone, Obi-Wan found himself mysteriously confused when he would occasionally forget that he lived alone upon coming home to empty quarters) but rather because Obi-Wan had never realized how many of the things in their apartment belonged to Anakin, or so Anakin claimed: almost all of them.

By the time they had moved his many, auspicious boxes down the lengthy hall of the temple's private quarters and into Anakin's new apartment, Obi-Wan was left with little more than a bed, a nightstand, and one particularly ugly potted plant which Obi-Wan only owned now because Anakin had refused to take it with him. On the whole, he supposed he should be thankful that Anakin left him with silverware considering that he had brazenly attempted to steal the Corellian plates in their kitchen which had been a gift from an old Jedi master – a dear friend of Qui-Gon's – given to him years before Anakin had even come to the temple, and that Anakin had pouted endlessly after being told that the plates belonged to Obi-Wan (in-so-much as a thing could _belong_ to a Jedi), and that if Anakin needed plateware he could requisition it from the Temple.

The entire ordeal was an awful mess, and Anakin's sour mood helped no one at all. Obi-Wan tried not to let on that he noticed, but it was difficult when Anakin moped around, packing his things like he was being sent to death row and then floating them pathetically down the hallway using the force while Obi-Wan trailed behind, praying that none of the Masters were around to see his former padawan so blatantly misusing his abilities.

Once he was finally gone things felt… peaceful, for the first few days at least. Then they began to grow somber as Obi-Wan realized just how little he might be seeing of Anakin from here on out. After all, it was extremely uncommon for a former padawan and master to be assigned on missions together. Obi-Wan might very well never see Anakin again outside of the temple and he was surprised by how severely the idea troubled him. And yet, despite this, Obi-Wan had promised Anakin that he would assist him in dealing with the consequences of his actions on Tatooine. How he was going to do this if the Council never assigned them missions together, and during a _war,_ was beyond him.

It was this thought that plagued him when someone buzzed his door one late afternoon, several days into his 2 week leave. He very much expected to see Anakin's face on the monitor of his wall and was very much surprised to find instead, Padme.

"Come in," He said, and the door slid open allowing Padme to rush in looking rather flustered. "Senator Amidala, what a curious surprise."

"I'm sorry to have come without warning like this, Obi-Wan," Padme said, scanning the room like a hawk for prey. "I'm… I don't know who else to turn to…"

Obi-Wan set his cup of tea down on the small kitchen island that had served as a dining table for him and Anakin for so many years and motioned Padme into the other room and onto the single piece of furniture he had requisitioned for himself from the Temple: a wide and comfortable couch. "Please, sit down."

As a knight with a padawan, Obi-Wan had been given the luxury of a two bedroom apartment, meager by the exorbitant standards of a senator, but well above the regular single room studio that many Jedi lived in. As the council had not yet requested that he downsize after Anakin's departure from the space, Obi-Wan was somewhat guiltily enjoying the fact that he now had a living room for the first time in his life in the form of Anakin's old room.

Padme's dress pooled around her as she sat, and despite her clearly anxious expression, everything about her was, as always, perfectly in place, but when she looked at him it was with the eyes of a desperate woman. "I don't want to get Anakin in trouble," were the first words out of her mouth and Obi-Wan already knew exactly how this conversation would go, so he decided to cut it off before he was forced to suffer having it a second time.

"I already know," he said, holding his hand up as he sat next to her. "Anakin confessed to me not long after his recovery."

Padme's expression turned to confusion. "He couldn't have," she said.

"He absolutely did."

"No, I mean… he couldn't have because he doesn't know."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't know he had sex with you?"

"He doesn't know I'm pregnant," Padme said.

For several long seconds, Obi-Wan stared at her, absolutely positive about the fact that whatever he had just heard, however stupid Anakin could occasionally be, he would not have gotten a woman, a member of the Republic Senate, pregnant.

"And the child is…"

"It's Anakin's," Padme said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Obi-Wan ran his hands over his face and muttered an old curse, unbidden, that Qui-Gon had always said when something particularly horrible happened.

"Obi-Wan… I don't know what to do… IIf I have the child and raise it myself someone is going to make the connection... they have to. I'm sure they will be called to the temple, they're going to be strong with the force. That sort of thing… it runs in families, doesn't it?"

"It can," Obi-Wan sighed. "In Anakin's family it almost assuredly will. If the council finds out that Anakin has a child he will be expelled from the order, and I'm sure you'll face repercussions as well."

For as put together as Padme looked, Obi-Wan could see her in her eyes that this was going to tear her apart. She put on a brave face, outwardly she seemed almost calm at his re-assurance of her fears. In another life, Obi-Wan thought that she may have made a good Jedi. Then Obi-Wan remembered that, of all the charming young men in the galaxy, she had decided to lay with _Anakin,_ and he took the thought back immediately.

"Padme," Obi-Wan put a hand on her slim shoulder, so seemingly fragile and yet he remembered well the muscle that had been beneath during their time together as prisoners on Geonosis. "Is terminating the pregnancy not an option?"

She looked at him and her calm veneer broke, bringing forth unshed tears which she quickly blinked away, shaking her head.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I suppose not, then." He stroked his beard, staring out the room's single window at the bright, Coruscant sky. "You haven't told anyone else?"

"No," Padme said. "I know you love Anakin as much as I do. I couldn't trust anyone else not to turn him in."

Obi-Wan groaned at hearing this. "Jedi do not form attachments to one another, Senator."

Looking slightly mortified, Padme said, "But… you _wouldn't_ turn him in. He was your padawan!"

"No, of course not. I'm not turning him in. If I was going to I would have already."

Padme gave him a look of skepticism which Obi-Wan did not like, and but she quickly abandoned it and said, "I need to know you are going to help me, Obi-Wan. If you can't, I _will_ find help somewhere else."

"I will do my best, Senator," Obi-Wan said. "But I cannot guarantee you anything."

"Thank you," Padme reached for his hand and squeezed it between hers. She had an unnervingly tight grip and Obi-Wan didn't know if he should take that as desperation or a threat. "That's all I ask."

"It will take me time to come up with something," he said. "I have a few contacts who may be able to help, but regardless you should prepare yourself for the eventuality that once this is through, it is very unlikely that you will be able to keep your child."

"I know," Padme ducked her head. "As long as they're safe…"

"I will do everything in my power to assure that they are."

A shuddered sigh snuck out of Padme's mouth and she finally released his hand. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. Truly."

Obi-Wan smiled at her and stood. "Can I get you anything? Tea, water?"

"No," Padme shook her head. "I should be going. I have a meeting to attend soon."

"Very well," Obi-Wan took her hand as she rose, and walked her to the door. "Senator," he said, just before she reached for the control panel. "Do not tell Anakin."

Padme's hand hovered over the door controls for several seconds. "I-,"

"If he learns that he has a child, he will never be able to let them go. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Padme nodded, and Obi-Wan saw what he suspected was a grim smile at the corner of her lips. "I know." And before Obi-Wan could say anything else, she had left, a stifling sense of dread percolating in her wake.


End file.
